


To Be Wanted, To Be Real

by poisontaster



Series: Heart 'Verse [28]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble Collection, Future Fic, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-16
Updated: 2006-05-16
Packaged: 2018-05-17 07:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5860339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vignettes of Sam Winchester's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Wanted, To Be Real

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble headers are from Jonatha Brooke's "Everything I Wanted"

**01\. And Every Single Day.**

It's never easy as the things he says. There is the secret language of Dean, made up of equal parts sarcasm, anger, silence. He speaks with his body, with eyes that he can't quite shutter enough to keep Sam out, with white noise.

For years, Sam deemed it a dead language, impossible to be learned by any but those for whom it was invented. Then he realized, he _is_ one of those. And that Dean's life is in that negative space between the lines, visible to anyone who takes the time to look and learn.

Sam is looking now. Learning. 

 

**02\. I Am Grateful.**

"Dean, we need a plan."

"I'm not arguing that. I'm just saying that having a plan isn't always the lock you think it is." Dean waves his hands. "Sometimes you just…gotta go from your gut."

"'Go from your gut?'" Sam repeats. "Where do you get this stuff? Fortune cookies?"

"Sometimes really good things happen from having no plan!"

Sam rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly, eyes closed. "Like what?"

Dean doesn't answer right away and after a moment, Sam opens his eyes to find Dean standing right in front of him. "Like this."

Unwilling, Sam smiles. "Oh. Yeah. That."

 

**03\. I Hold My Heart in My Hand.** (year 17)

Sam clicks the line open. "Yeah, Mike, what's up?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm in the airport in Oklahoma City. Don't you have my itin…"

"No," Mike interrupts, _"Where are you?"_

"Oh." Sam squints. "Concourse B."

"Concourse B," Mike repeats, not to Sam. "Yeah." His voice returns. "Okay. Wait there."

"Mike, I'm going to miss my conn…"

"Wait. There."

"What am I wait…" Sam looks up and everything in him stops and is still. "Is that…"

It has to be a hallucination. It must be. "Dean?"

"Yeah, and he flew, so don't fuck this up, okay?"

Flew? _Flew?_

"Dean?"

"Come home." 

 

**04\. And I Love You.** (year 20)

"Oh God, Sam, you are not serious."

"Why not?"

Chelsea sits and takes his hands in both hers. "You do remember when you almost burned down the house boiling water, right?"

"That was totally not my fault."

Chelsea raises an eyebrow, eerily like Dean. "Come on. Let's face it, Stepmonster. Dad is definitely the cook of your dynamic duo…and how sad is that?"

"I make a mean grilled cheese," Sam insists.

Again with the eyebrow.

Sam sighs. "Yeah, I know. But what am I going to do? It's the _day_."

She kisses his forehead. "Get out of my way, Stepmonster."

 

**05\. This is Real.**

Sam wakes up feeling sleek and lazy after a long sleep without dreams. Dean is singing over the shower and Sam listens, knows it's going to be a good day. When Dean comes in, one towel around his hips and another piled on his head, Sam rolls to the edge of the bed and grabs Dean's wrist, pulling him down.

"Oh my God, I have a _class_ , you giant whore," Dean says, but he's smiling as he presses Sam into the mattress.

"Be late," Sam answers with a grin of his own.

"Someone's happy today," Dean observes.

"Yeah, I am."

 

**BONUS ROUND:  
** 06\. The Places You Once Belonged.  


"Hmm. Looks like Big Sam isn't the only one that's happy."

"Oh…oh, Dean. There. Right th…"

Dean silences him with a kiss, which is a good thing, because when Dean gets the stroke just right, in _that_ spot, with that wicked dirty little swivel of his hips at the end, Sam's quickly reduced to nothing but incoherent whimpers and desperate thrusts of his own, clinging.

"Good, baby?"

" _Fuck._ So good, Dean." Sam arches and he feels Dean slide just those few slick-tight centimeters deeper, drawing a groan out of them both. "So good."

"Love you like this. Just…love you."


End file.
